


Where are my clothes?

by SavioBriion



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-08
Updated: 2012-04-08
Packaged: 2017-11-03 06:51:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/378545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SavioBriion/pseuds/SavioBriion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crowley/Aziraphale, PG13, 2008. Um... I can only say that this was for an English assignment, and hide.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where are my clothes?

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Not mine.

There was a strange, sharp smell in the air. A few valiant rays of sunlight had managed to make it through the grime-encrusted windows; then, energy spent, they flopped limply on a holey blankey covering two men on a mattress. One of them moved slightly. A shock of tousled gold curls appeared. Blue eyes blinked slowly, taking stock of the surroundings. They moved slowly downwards. Then the man gave a squawk of surprise and leapt out of the bed, grabbing the blanket to cover himself.  
  
"CROWLEY, WAKE UP! WHERE ARE MY  CLOTHES?!"  
  
   The other occupant of the bed sat up slowly, running a hand through his messy black hair, seemingly unaware of his nakedness. "Shut up, angel. Some of us are trying to sleep." Then he appeared to notice his surroundings. A slow grin began to appear.   
  
"Will you stop grinning?! This isn't funny! All I can remember is that blasted tequila, and something about hearts and diamonds, " He paused mid-rant, eyes widening more than it was possible for normal human eyes. "Crowley... we didn't..."  
  
  The black-haired man - Crowley - began to laugh. "You and your conclusions. And here I was thinking you were innocent. This is a room in a pub, and we were playing strip poker - " here he waggled his eyebrows suggestively , " - and it was a draw, as you can probably see for yourself. Oh, and you didn't exactly hit it off with my friend tequila and blacked out after a while." As if to prove his point, he waved a hand vaguely towards some empty bottles and scattered cards in a corner of the room. Aziraphale took this in slowly. Then he frowned.  
  
"Crowley, why were we in the same bed?"  
  
  Crowley stretched languidly before sauntering over to one of the bottles - which was mysteriously full - and raising it to his lips. "You were already on it when you passed out. And I was cold on the floor. You know me - practically reptilian body temperature." He grinned. It wasn't the sort of grin that inspired trust, but over the millenia Aziraphale had learnt that with Crowley, you were lucky to even get an explanation.  And Aziraphale always tried to give people - and a certain demon - the benefit of the doubt. He sighed and began the search for his clothes.  
  
  As for Crowley, he finished off the bottle and grinned like the snake that had eaten the cat that got the canary. Sometimes, ignorance was bliss.

**Author's Note:**

> Back in 2008 my English teacher, Mrs Wallace, gave us a rather amusing assignment - as she wrote it on the board, the first thing that jumped to mind was "OMG Crowley/Aziraphale!". Here's the assignment.
> 
> These are sixteen sentences. Choose one sentence and use it as the orientation for a piece of narrative writing. (Well, that's what we had to do - you guys can feel free to make minor alterations, as long as we recognise it, and the sentence doesn't have to be in the orientation, it can be in the ending or whatever)
> 
> 1) Take off your clothes.  
> 2) Mr Jones, please take off your clothes.  
> 3) Take off those clothes now!   
> 4) Quick, put these clothes on.  
> 5) Why are you wearing my clothes?  
> 6) Please don't make me take my clothes off.  
> 7) These are not my clothes.  
> 8) What beautiful clothes!  
> 9) No, not these clothes again!  
> 10) Whose clothes are these?  
> 11) Oh no, my clothes are gone.  
> 12) If only I had some other clothes.  
> 13) The only piece of clothing to hand was...  
> 14) We'll have to swap clothes.  
> 15) Where are my clothes?  
> 16) What on earth can I wear?
> 
> And here is what I did. Mrs Wallace found it very amusing. Since this was a school assignment, I thought it would be fine to use the name Crowley, but didn't use Aziraphale's name at all in the original, and tried not to mention immortality. So all the 'angel's and references to what they really are were inserted later.


End file.
